


High Tide

by cosmicmewtwo



Series: Contamination [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, kakavege week, prompt: the beach, some drabbly fluff with a garnish of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicmewtwo/pseuds/cosmicmewtwo
Summary: The Dragon Radar had led them further north for the fifth Dragon Ball, to a cold and rocky coast that Vegeta and Goku had never been to before.[ A companion piece toContamination]





	High Tide

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in the summary, this is a companion piece to my previous fic, Contamination. It's set shortly after the events of the last chapter.

* * *

 

 

The Dragon Radar had led them further north for the fifth Dragon Ball, to a cold and rocky coast that Vegeta and Goku had never been to before.

The tides were violent here—in mere hours Vegeta had watched the water go from choking the shore and cliffs to pulling out far toward the horizon, leaving the seabed bare and exposed, only to come rolling back in again. Vegeta faced the foggy sky, standing at the edge of the incoming tide, his boots damp where the bay’s choppy waves lapped at the broken line of seafoam and eelgrass that separated the beach from the sea.

“The Dragon Ball's definitely somewhere out in the bay,” Goku said from behind him. “I think we’re going to have to go for a dive.”

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder and saw Goku sitting on a log of driftwood, looking out toward the ocean, elbows on his knees.

“I think you’re right,” Vegeta said, glancing back to the Radar in his hands. “Maybe tomorrow. It’s going to be dark soon, and we’ve travelled a long way today.”

“Sounds good to me,” Goku said, and Vegeta turned back to face him as he stood up. “I think I’m gonna go hunt us up some dinner—the woods are thick up past the cliffs, and I think I caught the scent of some deer.”

Vegeta nodded. “Good. I could use a change from our rations. I’ll get a fire started.”

Goku flashed him a smile, and Vegeta answered with his own before he could stop himself.

But then Goku was gone, flying up the slope of the beach, and Vegeta was left alone with the cold breeze and a familiar ache in the center of his chest.

He ignored it as he always did, and went to work collecting the driest pieces of driftwood he could find, piling them into a makeshift firepit he’d built with stones. Once he was satisfied, he sat down on the driftwood log and pulled his pack towards himself, rifling through to find his container of flame fuel.

He dug through, pushing aside his bedroll and Capsules before happening upon a handful of brightly-coloured shells and unusual stones. He allowed himself a wistful grin as he pulled one out, rubbing his thumb across the grooves of a spiral shell, smooth and fossilized in the rock—a keepsake that Goku had plucked off the beach earlier that day.

The cliffs here were old, and Vegeta and Goku had stumbled upon entire swaths of rockface riddled with fossils—the shells and teeth of creatures from some primordial ocean, the imprints of fronds and leaves of plants long extinct, and massive tree trunks, petrified into crumbling stone columns. Vegeta had been taken aback at the sight—he had forgotten how old this planet was, that it still bore the scars of its geological record in places like this. Most planets never lasted so long.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Goku had wondered aloud as he had ran his fingers across the ridges of an ancient tree. “How different this place must have looked millions of years ago?”

Millions of years, and too many tides to count.

“And yet the imprints are still here,” Vegeta had mused.

They had moved along after that, but Goku had been pleased to grab a handful of small mementos.

 

 

XXX

 

 

Vegeta had stoked a decent fire by the time Goku returned.

Goku brought two freshly-killed deer with him, and Vegeta watched as he cut and cleaned his kill. He was quick and efficient, but meticulous—a far cry from Vegeta’s own less than savory hunting habits, which he’d picked up over a lifetime of chaotic purges; he had often ripped his kills limb from limb and devoured them bloody and raw, satisfied so long as it was meat.

“You’ll have to teach me how you do that so well,” Vegeta said, gesturing at Goku’s cleanly-stripped kill.

“Huh?” Goku said, looking up from the fire as he mounted slabs of meat above the flames to cook. “Oh, it’s just the way Grandpa Gohan taught me… You never learned anything like that?”

Vegeta offered a wistful smile as he rested his chin in his palm. “Nappa and Raditz weren’t always the best of mentors, unfortunately.”

Goku looked back into the fire and shrugged before reaching back to rub at his neck, as if humbled by Vegeta’s disclosure.

“Well, maybe for tomorrow’s dinner I can show you a thing or two,” he said, a slight smile pulling at his lips.

“Hmm… I don’t know,” Vegeta said, looking back towards the bay. “I was kind of thinking seafood would be a nice change of pace.”

“Oh?” Goku said, looking to Vegeta again. “That sounds good, actually—I heard the squid around these parts are big enough to sink ships, y’know. Might make a decent meal.”

“I am partial to calamari,” Vegeta said dryly. 

“Yeah?” Goku said, smiling up at Vegeta. “Say, Vegeta—what _is_ your favourite food?”

Vegeta rose an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Your favourite food,” Goku repeated. “You must have one?”

“I... can’t say I’m too particular."

But Goku was unphased by Vegeta’s noncommital answer.

“Okay then,” he tried again. “What’s your favourite colour?”

Vegeta tilted his head. “May I ask what the purpose is of this inane line of questioning?”

Goku’s smile was beaming now, its brightness enough to compete with the flames of their firepit.

“Just trying to get to know you better, is all,” he explained. “Aren’t you forgetting that’s why I invited you on this trip in the first place?”

“Yes, but—my favourite colour? Really?”

“You know what?” Goku said, and he scooted nearer to Vegeta on their driftwood log, leaning in close like he were about to divulge a secret. “The truth is—I already feel like I know you better than anyone. Maybe better than I know myself, almost. I’m just—trying to fill in the details.”

Vegeta looked away, the heat of the fire suddenly intense upon his cheeks.

“It’s blue,” he finally admitted, after a heavy pause.

Goku laughed.

“No kidding?” he said. “Mine too.”

 

XXX

 

 

Goku continued to grill Vegeta over the course of their meal, his questions stretching from the frivolous— _do you prefer cats or dogs?_ —to the opposite end of the spectrum entirely— _what’s one thing you would change about yourself, if you could?_

Vegeta humored him, for the most part. He knew Goku’s curiosity came from a place of genuine interest, and not some desire to embarrass Vegeta, or make him squirm. And Vegeta, for once, indulged in a rare chance to be honest and open with someone else.

He just wasn’t prepared when Goku’s last question blindsided him.

Goku was still holding the last of his meal in his hands—a thick bone he’d stripped clean and cracked open, to feast on the marrow inside—when he seemed to pause for a moment

“Vegeta?” he said, looking down as he turned the bone in his hands,  avoiding Vegeta’s gaze. “What do you want to wish for, if Shenron can’t grant my wish?”

Vegeta, finished his meal, was busy poking the fire with a stick, trying to coax a particularly stubborn chunk of wood back into the flames.

“What… what do you mean?” Vegeta said, pausing to look up from the firepit.

“Shenron might not be able to grant my wish,” Goku said simply. “You know that—don’t you have a back-up wish in mind?”

Vegeta had accepted from the beginning that was a possibility, maybe a likelihood—but he’d been consciously ignoring it, compartmentalizing it and tucking it away on some dusty shelf in the back of his mind. The Dragon Balls were a means to an end he had little interest in—it was the journey he’d signed up for, after all.

But then—what _were_ they supposed to say if the Dragon came up short?

“I…” Vegeta began, the stick suddenly limp in his hand, and Goku was looking up at him now, eyes wide and expectant.

But mercifully, Vegeta’s answer was aborted before he could speak—the sea breeze chose at that moment to suddenly pick up, and specks of drizzle started to fall from the hazy, steadily darkening sky.

“Shit,” Vegeta hissed, eyes stinging as smoke blew into his eyes from the sudden change in wind, and he turned away from the fire to grab his pack—a welcome distraction. “I better get our tent set up.”

“Oh?” Goku said, holding out an open palm as if to confirm that it was, in fact, raining. “Yeah, I guess so, eh?”

Vegeta wasn’t listening—he was already elbow deep in his back, rummaging frantically through his things.

“Damn it, I can’t find the Capsule for it,” he muttered. “Do you remember seeing me pack it when we left our last site?”

“You’re asking _me_?” Goku laughed, tossing his bone away and wiping his hands on his thighs as Vegeta continued to swear under his breath. “Don’t worry about it, Vegeta—I don’t mind sleeping under the stars if we have to. Prefer it, actually.”

“In the _rain_?” Vegeta huffed.

“C’mon, it’s just a bit of drizzle—”

But it was already falling heavier now, the rocks around them growing slick as the surface of the bay churned, rippling and pockmarked with the sudden downpour.

“Suit yourself, Goku, but I’m not sleeping out in this,” Vegeta muttered, standing up and slinging his pack over his shoulder. From the distance, a low peal of thunder rumbled toward them. “There has to be somewhere we can seek shelter—maybe a cave, or—”

But Goku was shaking his head. “A cave will be no good—it’ll be high tide in a few hours. Unless you want to sleep in knee-deep water—”

“Well we can’t stay out here,” Vegeta shouted, raising his voice above the steadily strengthening wind. Their fire was already flickering to embers, and another clap of thunder sounded across the bay, louder this time—and closer. “Maybe one of the deeper caves, that we saw further back—”

“I saw an abandoned lighthouse earlier while I was hunting,” Goku suggested. “I didn’t take a look inside, but it looked sturdy enough?”

“Sure, fine,” Vegeta said quickly, growing impatient as the rain started to soak through his combat suit. “How far?”

Goku nodded, and picked up his own pack before lifting into the air.

“Not far if we fly quick,” he said with a smile. “I’ll lead the way.”

 

 

XXX

 

 

Vegeta followed Goku carefully, staying close behind as Goku led him around twisting curves of rocky coastline. He tried to stay close to the cliffs, to use any rocky overhang as shelter from the wind and water, but it was useless—the rain was falling in sheets now, hard and rippling with the wind-gusts. Soon it was impossible to distinguish where the ocean ended and the sky began, the horizon blurred by the roiling murk. Only the veins of lightning splitting the sky served to provide any illumination, brief as it was.

But Goku seemed to know the way—Vegeta was relieved when Goku finally landed at the top of a narrow cliff where the promised lighthouse stood. It wasn’t much—all worn stone and crumbling foundation, clearly long abandoned by whoever used to keep it. No light shone from the top, and Vegeta could only wonder at how many years had passed since it had served as any sort of beacon.

Vegeta landed next to Goku, who was already fumbling with the door. A thick padlock kept it rusted shut, but a soft burst of ki was all it took to break open. Goku shouldered open the door, and nodded toward the entrance while glancing at Vegeta, as if to say _after you?_

Vegeta wasted no time rushing inside. The ground floor was cold and dark, but—most importantly—dry. The diameter of the structure wasn’t particularly large, but Vegeta could tell at a glance that it would be enough to comfortably house two Saiyans for the night. Vegeta unslung his pack from his shoulders and dropped it to the ground, satisfied.

Behind him, Vegeta could hear Goku pulling the heavy door shut, and the wind outside was suddenly muffled to a dull roar. He could still feel the walls shaking with every strong gust, the glass of the tower’s few, small windows rattling in their frames.

“Well, it’s no castle,” Goku sighed, mirroring Vegeta by unslinging his own pack, dropping it in a wet heap on the floor. “But I’ve slept in worse.”

“Better than the damn beach,” Vegeta muttered, busily wringing water out of his hair as Goku rifled through his pack, pulling out a set of dry clothes

“Here’s hoping the next Dragon Ball leads us somewhere with nicer weather, at least,” Goku chuckled. Out of the corner of his eye, Vegeta saw Goku begin to strip off the layers of his soaked gi, and Vegeta hoped it wasn't obvious when he forced himself to abruptly look away. But it wasn’t enough to halt the immediate uptick in his pulse, and he was thankful for the sound of thunder that drowned out the deafening thrum of his heart in his ears.

“All I can say is that the next Dragon Ball damn well better be somewhere where we won’t have to dive for it,” Vegeta said, feigning steadiness in his voice as he began to pull off his own wet clothing.

“I dunno, that coral reef we went to wasn’t so bad.”

“Speak for yourself,” Vegeta snorted as he pulled his own fresh clothes from his pack—a looser-fitting tanktop and matching leggings. “I could do without seeing another jellyfish for a thousand lifetimes.”

“They don’t sting _that_ bad—”

“Try getting caught in a _swarm_ of them, and then try to tell me about it, Goku.”

Goku laughed, and Vegeta turned back to find him fully clothed and unfurling his bedroll on the floor, and Vegeta quickly did the same. Despite the fresh change of clothes, Vegeta couldn’t shake the chill that the storm had left him with, and he quickly crawled beneath the thermal layers of the sleeping bag. Goku, meanwhile, seemed unperturbed by the damp coolness of the tower—he merely sat on top of his unrolled sleeping bag, head craned upward as if trying to follow the broken, jagged staircase that spiraled all the way to the lantern room somewhere above them. A flash of lightning strobed through one of the windows, setting the room alight in a cold flicker of shadow, and Vegeta was struck by the image of Goku’s face, half-lit in darkness.

Something in Vegeta immediately ached to reach out and touch Goku’s cheek—but he could only bring himself to speak instead.

“You said something to me while we were aboard Capsule 4,” Vegeta said, each word careful, falling heavy in the darkness.

Goku looked toward him, eyebrow raised—it was the first time even after weeks of journeying together that Vegeta had made any direct mention of their time aboard the ship. “Yeah?”

“You said that you hoped we could have a place together, here on Earth,” Vegeta said, pulling the layers of his bedroll tighter around himself to suppress his shivering. “I haven’t been able to stop wondering what sort of place you would pick to settle down—somewhere northern, and remote, like here? Or a city? A mountain?”

Goku thought for a long moment, and Vegeta felt him inch closer in the darkness. “You know, at first I was gonna say Mt. Paozu—but I think I’d want somewhere new, all to ourselves, you know?” Goku rubbed at the back of his neck. “But, hey—we still got a couple Dragon Balls to go—maybe we’ll find home along the way?”

Vegeta closed his eyes. _Home_. Gods, how good that word sounded on Goku’s lips.

But Vegeta didn’t have a moment to imagine what that home might look like—suddenly, something was pulling at the zipper of his sleeping bag, and he opened his eyes to find Goku crawling in beside him.

“Goku?” he said, his entire body stiffening. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re cold,” Goku chided, pulling the flap back up as he pressed close to Vegeta. “Don’t say you’re not—I can tell you’re shivering.”

Despite the chill that gripped him, Vegeta felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Yes, but—”

But Goku ignored his feeble protest, and wrapped an arm around Vegeta’s body, pulling him close. Vegeta felt suddenly suffocated, his throat closing—Goku was too close, the sleeping bag was too small, and everything was suddenly hotter than he could imagine—

Suddenly all Vegeta could think of was his narrow ship cabin, and the small bunk they had shared, night after night.

“Goku,” he said hoarsely, grasping Goku’s arm as a warning.

“What?” Goku challenged, and Vegeta saw something flicker in his eyes as lightning flashed again. “You don’t have to push me away, Vegeta.”

Vegeta suddenly felt untethered, like at any moment he could be blown apart by the wind that was violently buffeting the lighthouse. He thought of lifting Goku’s arm off, but couldn’t find the strength to do it. “No, but—you shouldn’t—”

“Why?” Goku asked, and suddenly he had pulled Vegeta beneath him—and Vegeta couldn’t move, caged in by the bag and Goku’s arms. “This whole journey, I’ve felt you trying to pull away—trying to distance yourself—but all I’ve wanted to do this whole time is just— _touch_ you.”

Vegeta swallowed. “Goku, I—”

But then he felt Goku’s hand in his hair, pushing back the coarse spikes, and Vegeta lost the will to speak.

“You may have erased my memories, Vegeta,” he said, his voice raw, his pause filled by a distant rumbling of thunder. “But… you didn’t erase everything. I know what I feel.”

Goku leaned down, pressing his lips to Vegeta’s, and the sudden kiss rocked Vegeta harder than any thunderstrike. He found himself clutching to the front of Goku’s shirt, pulling closer as their mouths slid together—one of his hands worked its way into Goku’s hair, clutching at the back of Goku’s neck, and when he finally pulled away, gasping, Goku’s forehead stayed pressed to his.

For a moment, Vegeta squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body aching with his failure. He thought he had scrubbed Goku clean of their memories—and more importantly, their entire connection—but clearly something of their bond had still been left behind, deeper than any imprint. Vegeta had seared away the flesh and sinew, but the bones of it still remained—crystallized in something so strong that maybe nothing could shake them loose.

Vegeta couldn’t help but imagine him and Goku and a million years of violent tides, lapping at their feet—but coming away untouched and unscathed, impervious to time and any earthly force.

“I’m sorry,” Vegeta said, shivering hard as Goku ran a hand down the length of his body. “I wasn’t trying to be distant, I was just—”

_I didn’t want to confuse you—I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already have—_

Vegeta lifted a palm to Goku’s face, touching his cheek just as he had been hungering to, all along.

_Don’t you realize why I have no wish for the Dragon?_

“It’s okay,” Goku soothed, pressing another, softer kiss to Vegeta’s lips.

“I’ve always wanted you,” was what Vegeta managed to say. 

“I know,” Goku said quietly. “That much I remember.”

Vegeta pulled him close and kissed him hard.

_Everything I could possibly wish for is right here._

 

XXX

 


End file.
